Novel & Cerita Russian Rapunzel

Then Kou quickly left I went to the rooftop with shaky hands to confirm my gut feelings ... and there I saw her. I saw a girl there... She has an pretty and angelic face that I can't even compare, her hair was dark brown, it was tied up by a white ponytail. She's smiling gently while closing her eyes with earphones in her ears... She looked really pretty. It felt unfair. I averted my eyes at the courtyard, there I saw Kou and Henry... ...Henry... was looking at her...

There was a vein on her forehead that began to bulge and the woman looked as if she were about to explode. I started to step away from her, “Who in the world do you think I am?” “You are Isabella! Ella! Cinderella! The bitch who made my life hell! So, I am returning the favor!” Just then she wrapped her hand around my throat and threw me into the wall that I had recently had her back pinned to. She grunted before she asked “How else do you explain not dying when those rats showed up in your shed?! You are Isabella reincarnated so you are immune to the damn illness!” She was the one to put the rats in the shed that she threw me in.

“You are finishing Razel’s embroidery. Campanula rapunculus is the bloom.” “Yes,” I drew the chair that Aien usually used closer, intrigued by her. In my mind she had been an evil witch, keeping Rapunzel prisoner in the tower, however, she was far from that. Like most stories, this one was far more complicated than what it appeared to be, I suspected. “Why were you keeping Rapunzel prisoner in the tower?”

The golden lights of the bathroom made a perfect lighting. "Turn back" she said taking her phone. So I did. "Look I cannot fit your whole hair into my camera. This is why I tell you to cut your hair short!" She yells. Ahh! Dua and her advices! The only good thing happened in my life is my hair. Honestly I have loved my hair from day one. I was very famous during my school and college days for my hair and my nick name was Rapunzel because I have a very long wavy brown hair which was very thick. Maybe that's why people tell I look more like an European.

"What's your name?" I hesitated for only a moment. "Rayne." His eyes flicked slowly over my face, then dropped toward the silver hair spilling loose over my shoulder. "Rayne." He repeated it slowly, like he was testing the shape of it against his own tongue. "I was going to call you Rapunzel." I frowned. "Why?" He gestured toward my hair. "Silver, that long? You look like you walked straight out of a fairy tale." I touched my hair self-consciously, my fingers catching at the loose waves. "I'm not a princess."

This world is horrid, so if you are reading my tale remember that everything is a lie. Nothing is true and manipulation is key. Perfect is not a word we use because it is not true. When I was younger I wanted to explore the world, now all I want to do is have my next meal without puking. I am Rapunzel, who never left her tower. Or for me, my castle. Yes I have social interaction, but that's not the same and with my weight it makes me want to die.